


but break, my heart

by iwritetrash



Series: all that lives must die [3]
Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Biblical References, Bisexual Wilhelmina, F/F, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Infidelity, Introspection, Lesbian Florence, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, Pretty much no dialogue, Unrequited Love, Wilhelmina's POV, i took a lot of liberties with very minor characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 18:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13172277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwritetrash/pseuds/iwritetrash
Summary: but break, my heart, for i must hold my tongue





	but break, my heart

**Author's Note:**

> i finally finished a version of wilhelmina's POV that i'm happy with, so here it is!
> 
> i did take a lot of liberties in interpreting florence's character for this, and i'm about to do a hell of a lot more bc her POV is next on the list...
> 
> enjoy!

Wilhelmina gives away her heart rather easily. It is not proper, she knows, to be so free with her emotions, but she cannot help but wear her heart on her sleeve. She is still young, and has much to learn of the ways of men.

~

Ernest is not the first to whom she gives her heart, but he is the one to whom she devotes herself most fully. The time to pursue a husband has finally arrived, and her affections are no longer to be trivialised, in order to allow for the potential of opened doors into marriage.

Wilhelmina finds Ernest quite fascinating, from his good humour to the elegance with which he plays the piano, and yet it remains almost impossible to truly understand his intentions. Like a complex enigma, he evades all simple definition, confusing her with his own ambiguity. It is certainly his most interesting quality, and one which only adds to her admiration for him

Unfortunately, Wilhelmina knows Ernest is a slave to his birth. She does not have the title or wealth to even entertain the idea of marrying him, yet still… it would certainly be nice, were he to miraculously fall in love with her.

Perhaps, in that scenario, he might bend the rules.

~ 

Naïvety, despite her youth, has never been one of Wilhelmina’s qualities. She knows from the moment she sees Ernest with the Duchess of Sutherland that all hopes of holding his heart are lost. Harriet and Ernest have such palpable chemistry that she feels as though she is intruding merely by watching from the other end of the large sitting room in which they are gathered, as the pair play a duet on the piano.

Not only is Harriet beautiful, and charming, but she brings with her a title and a sizeable dower from her poor deceased husband’s estate, which would make her a relatively advantageous match, even if she is not a princess.

It is time, Wilhelmina thinks, to find a man who might actually care for her.

~

It takes her a while to get over the heartbreak of her dashed hopes.

Wilhelmina knows it is foolish to be so emotionally invested in a relationship which never had a chance of taking place, but her hopes and dreams had run away from her and allowed her to imagine a future with Ernest. She knows what the Duchess of Buccleuch would say if she knew Wilhelmina’s thoughts.

 _Foolish girl!_ she scolds herself.

The voice in her head is not her own, but rather that of her quick-to-judge aunt, reprimanding her for wearing her heart on her sleeve.

~

She must marry, she knows, for advantage. A young girl such as herself will be left with nothing to live upon once her parents pass on, unless her elder brother chooses to be both kind and generous, which would make quite the change.

It is a task which proves difficult when faced with her complete lack of title and her minimal dowry. What can she hope to offer a wealthy man? Some nice music on the piano?

It is not even as though she is beautiful enough to charm herself into a good match. She has spent much time looking in the mirror and, though she is not unattractive, she is certainly not striking like Harriet, or like the Queen. If she were, perhaps she might already be married.

~ 

It is Lord Alfred that she sets her sights on, once she has recovered from mourning Ernest’s loss.

He is a young, single man, and he is rather attractive, and so good humoured. She does not give her heart to him so fully as she did to Ernest, though. She has learned her lesson now – men are not to be trusted with the hearts of young women. That is certainly what her aunt would say.

It is not as though Ernest endeavoured to break her heart, nor did he toy with her, and yet she finds her trust a little dented, so when she begins to harbour some affection for Lord Alfred, she is far more cautious.

She does not wish to have her heart broken again. 

~

Wilhelmina does not tell her aunt of her hopes that Alfred might court her. Her aunt would likely insult the poor man and tell Wilhelmina to choose someone else. Instead, Wilhelmina schemes in secret to arrange accidental encounters and the like.

She asks him to help her at cards, to turn her music as she plays the piano, or to take a turn about the garden with her.

It would be lovely, she thinks, to marry Lord Alfred, since he is such good friends with Drummond, and she is such good friends with Florence. They would make quite the little group.

But she is getting ahead of herself.

She will not entertain such notions so prematurely.

~

It was too good to be true, of course.

She sees Alfred and Edward in Scotland, kissing like lovers. She feels sick to her stomach- _such good friends_ , she had thought. Indeed, they were very close, but not at all in the way she had expected.

It is not until she looks closer that she realises the tenderness between the two of them. Yes, there is passion, but also love, gentleness, affection; everything Wilhelmina longs for. It makes her wonder how such affairs can possibly be sinful, when they look so much in love.

~

Wilhelmina does not mourn for Alfred as she did for Ernest, though it still hurts. It seems her caution helped a little, and she is able to distract herself quite easily from another failed opportunity.

Instead, she finds herself confused, conflicted even. Wilhelmina has no idea what to make of such an unlikely pairing, and poor Florence! Does she know? Will she know? Surely Edward does not plan on marrying her when he is so clearly in love with another?

She hardly thinks it possible for a man to love another man, and yet Alfred and Edward stand before her as living proof. Wilhelmina wonders briefly if she could love a woman, but the thought is pushed quickly from her mind by more pressing matters.

~

She finds herself torn by the nature of Alfred and Edward’s relationship. Her mind tells her that such acts cannot be allowed; that they are depraved, perverse, and downright sinful. And yet, her eyes and her heart tell her that nothing which looks so… tender can possibly be as bad as she has been told.

It is quite impossible.

She turns to her bible for guidance, and finds comfort in the words of David on Jonathan. Perhaps she reads too much into trivial things, but she thinks that, having seen what she has, it is impossible not to.

She does her best to convey her best wishes and good intentions to Alfred. Whether or not he understands her is another issue in itself.

~

When she takes tea with Florence a few days after their return from Scotland, she finds it hard to keep the news of Edward’s infidelity from her. Florence is, after all, one of Wilhelmina’s closest friends. It feels as though it is her duty to stop her friend from marrying someone who is clearly devoted to someone else.

But it is not her secret to tell, so she keeps quiet.

Edward will do the right thing, she is certain.

Wilhelmina just smiles, and sips tea, and chatters eagerly with Florence about the wedding.

~

The thoughts Wilhelmina had dismissed so quickly in Scotland return to haunt her late at night. _Could she love a woman as she could love a man?_

Having seen Alfred and Edward, she knows now that it was possible for two men to love one another as they might love a woman, and so the question returns to her as to whether or not she might do the same.

She wonders, if she were to love a woman, who might it be? Florence, maybe?

Why not, she muses? Florence is beautiful, and incredibly sweet, and she always knows precisely how to make Wilhelmina smile. It is an interesting thought to entertain, and certainly one which plays on her mind the next time she sees Florence.

But it would, of course, be incredibly improper to entertain such ideas any further. Wilhelmina puts the thoughts to the back of her mind.

~

Edward Drummond is shot. Wilhelmina’s world shifts entirely on its axis with the aftershock.

~

Wilhelmina had not known Edward well, not even well enough to call him by his Christian name, and yet his death seems to have an impact similar to that of a horrific explosion. She sees Alfred shatter under the weight of such a revelation, and sees Florence sink into mourning for her husband-to-be, and finds herself compelled to do her best to manage the damage.

How tragic, Wilhelmina thinks, to have to watch two people, for whom she cares so deeply, grieve the loss of one man.

~

All thoughts of mentioning Edward’s relationship with Alfred to Florence dissipate entirely after Edward’s death. She will not tarnish his reputation thus, nor will she break Florence’s heart even more with the knowledge that her fiancé loved another. It is better this way, of this she is now certain.

~

Wilhelmina watches Alfred carefully in the weeks which follow, and wonders how on earth he can appear so stoic, so unaffected by the loss of a man he seemed to have loved so dearly.

It is not until a week or so afterwards, when she finds him completely inebriated and pouring himself another brandy in one of the smaller sitting rooms, that she realises it is all a façade. She takes his half-filled glass from him and helps him to his feet, unsteady as he is, and guides him back to his room, careful to avoid the watchful eyes of servants, despite the late hour.

When they finally arrive back at his chambers, she realises she cannot bear to leave him, especially not in this state, so she helps him in, and leads him to his bed. Somewhere in the midst of her helping him to remove his shoes and coat, he begins to cry, and Wilhelmina realises how unprepared she is for this sudden surge of emotion, and how incapable she is of dealing with it.

It is impossible to determine quite what he is saying through his sobs and slurred words, but she’s certain she hears Edward’s name. The poor man, Wilhelmina thinks, as she pulls him close to her and gently strokes his hair like he is a small child cradled in her arms and not a fully-grown man. His sobs quieten eventually to small sniffles and hiccups.

Eventually, Wilhelmina has to leave. She has certainly been in his chambers far longer than is proper, even if he does much prefer men to women anyway, and she refuses to entertain any such rumours for fear they might prompt that lingering affection she harbours for the man. 

As she leaves, however, she casts one last glance towards the man behind her. How dreadful, she thinks, to have to mourn in silence. She is certain that, were she in his position, she would struggle even to get out of bed in the morning, and yet he is able to go about his daily life as though nothing has changed. She wonders what is must be like to be forced to lock those dreadful emotions inside, to pretend they do not exist for the sake of reputations. 

It is utterly unimaginable.

~

Alfred does not slip up so publicly again, but after that night it is Wilhelmina he turns to in times of need. She guides him to some distant part of the gardens or to an empty sitting room where he may lay bare his sufferings, and where she may do her best to help him heal them.

There is, however, only so much one woman can do to cure wounds which accompany true love.

~

Florence seems to find her recovery from Edward’s death somewhat easier than Alfred. Though she still appears heartbroken by Edward’s loss, she does not carry the same listless, haunted expression which Alfred wears so often these days.

Wilhelmina wonders if perhaps it is because Florence is able to express her grief more openly, but as time passes and Florence recovers while Alfred remains stuck in a state of perpetual mourning, Wilhelmina begins to question her theory.

It is not as though Wilhelmina has endless experience with grief, and yet Alfred’s reaction strikes her as that of a man who has lost a true love, a soulmate even. Florence’s strikes her as that of a woman who has lost a dear friend, or a cousin. Not a loving husband-to-be. It is strange.

~

As they take tea one afternoon, Florence shows Wilhelmina her new gown: a dress of deep emerald silk. Wilhelmina asks Florence when on earth she will wear the dress, since she is, of course, still in mourning.

Florence smiles a little.

She is prepared to stop mourning Edward now, she says. Wilhelmina gapes at her.

It has hardly been six months, she says, and two years is customary and yet…

Florence is no widow. She was never married. Besides, she will still be half-mourning Edward, because he was a nice man, and she loved him so, did she not?

Florence sounds uncertain when she mentions her affections for Edward, as though the swiftness of their waning places doubt on the truth of them. Wilhelmina wonders how Florence can possibly recover so easily if she truly felt for Edward as she says.

~

Wilhelmina wonders what Alfred would say, to hear that Edward’s fiancée, who is free to mourn as openly as she chooses, wishes to end her mourning period as swiftly as possible. Alfred, who is hardly able to wear his mourning attire without being questioned, Alfred who wears a black armband under his clothes to avoid suspicion, Alfred who must hush his tears and suppress his feelings, Alfred who loved Edward so dearly and yet cannot love him openly even in death.

It seems cold, to waste a chance at mourning when there are others who so sorely wish to.

~

Alfred retires all his coloured garments, a fact which does not go unnoticed by Wilhelmina. She hasn’t seen him wear coloured clothing, other than his uniform, since the day Edward passed.

She feels some strange sensation of betrayal stir in her stomach when she thinks of Florence’s decision.

~

It is not until a year or so later that Florence admits to Wilhelmina that, though she cared greatly for Edward, she never felt for him what she should have. _A brother_ , she calls him, _rather than a lover_.

Almost forgotten memories of speculation drift to the forefront of Wilhelmina’s mind, as she begins to wonder if perhaps it might be possible for women to love women as men can love men.

Florence goes on to mention her suspicions that Edward felt much the same, and that she suspected he was having an affair. Wilhelmina almost chokes on her tea.

Since they are on the subject of confessions, Wilhelmina feels herself compelled to tell Florence the truth which she has, thus far, kept from her, since it seems it shall do little harm now. She does not reveal Alfred’s name, however. That is, most certainly, not her secret to tell.

Florence smiles mildly, sips her tea, and tells Wilhelmina that she is glad Edward found happiness with someone he loved.

There is something almost impossible to read behind her words, something wistful as her eyes land on Wilhelmina’s again. Wilhelmina dismisses the thought. She has merely been spending too much time contemplating such matters, she tells herself.

~ 

Wilhelmina kisses Florence a year later, after an entire year of guessing games and beating around the bush. The entire affair seems to have been some intricate maze through which she must navigate. She wonders briefly if Alfred and Edward played such games. She remembers that night in Scotland, and is certain that they did.  

Florence kisses her back, and Wilhelmina finds herself quite taken aback by the sensation. She notes, rather interestingly, that her feelings for Florence do not belittle the romantic notions she felt towards Ernest, and towards, Alfred, but rather they equal them, with potential to blossom into something more serious, given time.

~

They are both obliged to marry, eventually, for their own good. Times may be changing, but two young ladies such as themselves still require a husband to keep them. Wilhelmina marries a fine young gentleman with a large country home, who spends much of his time travelling, leaving her as Lady of the House.

Florence finds a husband who allows her to pay long visits to her _dear friend_ Wilhelmina, and the two pass their days in romantic bliss. Fear of discovery is near-non-existent, for nobody questions the casual intimacies of young ladies. They must be careful, of course, and they are not afforded the liberty they might hope for, but it is enough for them to be happy.

Finally, Wilhelmina thinks, she has fallen in love with someone who loves her back.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked this! i rewrote it like three times before this version was made, but i'm pretty happy with this end product and i've really been able to settle into writing this POV. 
> 
> florence is up next, and then hopefully alfred's wife cecelia (cue even more liberties with her character bc she's a blank canvas for me to work on) but after that i'm pretty open to suggestions as to who else i could look at, so feel free to request a certain person you think might be interesting to look at!
> 
> thank you so much for reading <3


End file.
